


mi casa es tu casa

by dormant_bender



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Babysitting, Dialogue Heavy, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Implied Relationships, M/M, Short One Shot, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 06:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6646858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dormant_bender/pseuds/dormant_bender
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Neymar needs a last-minute babysitter, he knows immediately that he can depend on Rafinha (and Marc too, for that matter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	mi casa es tu casa

**Author's Note:**

> I've been long overdue with writing one-shots for Terfinha, so here this baby is !!
> 
> I literally just wrote this, so there's a probably a lot of mistakes, but I hope you enjoy it xx

    Rafinha is sprawled leisurely across the couch with a very ardent Marc settled between his spread thighs, the blue-eyed man staring down at him, sweat trickling down from his brow. Once more two pairs of equally red and abused lips meet halfway and the grinding continues at a rhythmic pace that leaves the two panting and groaning.

    Chestnut hues are fluttering contently closed as he digs the bluntness of his nails into the smooth expanse of skin on the latter's back, one of his legs winding around his waist to tug him closer. Not that it was possible, the German was already pressed into every contour imaginable, but that fact didn't deter him in the least.

    Large hands are gliding feather-light down the freshly waxed chest of the younger until he finds the band of the shorts he adorned, the very tips of his fingers tracing disjointed lines at the smooth skin there. Cue the arching of a toned back which is followed by a drawn out moan at the action, the nails at the latter's back piercing his skin lightly, but not nearly enough to draw blood.

    "Dry-humping like we're fourteen again is fun and all, but I'd prefer to be naked already."

    Marc chuckles lowly at that as he pecks those inviting lips once more, grinding his hips down harshly, the darkness deepening within already dark hues. "You told me when we first did this that you enjoyed a little foreplay, Rafa."

    Lids narrow at that but he doesn't respond, however he does raise his hips up slightly—earning a low guttural groan from Marc as he presses into the bulge straining against his own shorts—to shimmy hurriedly out of his own until his cock springs against his lower abdomen.

    "I may have said that but I say a lot of things." Rafinha murmurs as he manages to maneuver the shorts down to pool around his ankles.

    Once more Marc descends upon him to capture him in another kiss that's all teeth and tongue, though he finds better use of his hands this time. He breaks the kiss for only a moment, breathing softly against the younger's lips: "All you care about is getting off.." He breathes barely above a whisper as he takes the younger in hand, offering him three firm strokes.

    Rafinha shudders at the warmth that surrounds him but responds with a vigorous nod of his head as he presses it back against the couch cushion. "You saying you don't care about getting off, Mats?"

    The hand around his cock tightens within his grip and another choked noise emanates from the man beneath him, "I'm not saying I don't.. But I don't mind a little build-up first."

    "So you're saying if I turned around right now, you wouldn't pounce on this perky ass?"

    Something akin to thoughtfulness passes over his countenance, the hand still steadily working at Rafinha's cock gaining momentum, shruging a halfhearted shoulder. "Touche."

    "That's what I fucking thou—.."

      Knock, knock.

     Ding dong, ding dong, ding dong.

    Chocolate hues widen to saucers at the sound of the doorbell and consecutive knocks, though he is more concerned with the hand that immediately detaches from his body. Almost instantaneously he reaches out for the paler hand, managing to capture his wrist, to tug him back down upon his body. Cerulean hues are staring at him in bewilderment, cheeks flushed and lips parted ever so slightly, his blond head shifting in favor towards the front door.

    "Whoever it is, they'll go away. You can't just—I won't let you stop, not now."

    Marc only shakes his head at the words as the ringing continues followed by a few distinct words being shrieked at the top of someone's lungs. "It'll only be a minute? Just let me go answer the door and I'll be back, okay? You're always so needy."

    "I hate you."

    But nonetheless the Brazilian is freed from the added weight of the elder, eyes closely watching his retreating form. He decidedly tugs up his own shorts, adjusting himself thoughtfully, before fast-walking to meet him by the door before he opens it.

    An awkward cough echoes from Marc as he hides his form partially behind the door, smiling timidly at the sight of Neymar and his small son. "I, uh—Hey. Hi. Is something wrong?"

    Neymar glances from Davi to Marc then over the blond's shoulder at Rafinha, who flushes significantly under his scrutiny. All he does is wince slightly as he places both of his hands upon his son's shoulders, offering them a warm, reassuring squeeze. "Whatever you two were doing, you can't anymore. I need you guys to watch Davi for a few hours, I got a call and it's pretty important.."

    Rafinha's face brightens considerably as he lays eyes on the tiny blond that wavers from foot to foot in front of his father. "It must be pretty important then, sucks you have an emergency when you're hanging out with little man. But, sure, why not? Everyone knows I'm his favorite anyway."

    Marc casts a glance at the younger Brazilian and furrows his brows tightly then glances back at Neymar who quirks a quizzical brow, "We have this completely under control, I promise I'll be the responsible one."

    Neymar offers a blindingly bright smile at that and glances back down towards a very curious-looking Davi, ruffling his blond locks affectionately. He drops to a squat and embraces the tiny boy warmly within his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek then the very top of his head. "Papai will be back as soon as he can, alright? Be good for Uncle Rafa and for Uncle Mats." Then he leans to press his lips to his ear to feign a whisper: "Bother Uncle Rafa as much as you want."

    Soft giggles spew from the child at that and he nods enthusiastically as he hugs his father once more, "I'll miss you, papai!"

    The smallest of frowns flickers across plump lips at that but Neymar manages to detach himself from the child in favor of straightening to offer the two men a stern look. "No weird stuff in front of him, got that? I'm talking to you, Rafa." Hazel hues narrow when he glances at the Brazilian, whose hands rise defensively before him, gaze softening once more as he gazes at Marc. "I'll be back before it's too late. See you guys."

    Davi is left standing there, gazing up at the two adults, a tiny grin playing upon his lips. Rafinha offers him a broad grin in response and takes a few steps until he's behind him, hands gently pressing upon the tiny backpack that he wears until he's safely inside the warmth of the home. Cerulean hues glance at him then wildly gestures with his hands, pointing towards the bathroom, making a washing gesture.

    "Shi—Shows. You like shows right, Davi?"

    With that he motions towards the living room area, avoiding the previously debauched couch, in favor of the other sitting perpendicular to it. He playfully taps the cushion there and watches as the child climbs onto it, tugging his shoes off as he goes, then crossing his legs indian-style. He stares up at Rafinha expectantly and the male scrambles to find the remote control, only for it to be politely handed to the child by Marc, who narrows his gaze as he stares at Rafinha's hands.

    Rafinha nods at that then scurries off to wash his own hands as well as retrieve two shirts—one for him, one for Marc. At least they would have some semblance of decency, though the remainder of what they were doing previously was still charged throughout the air. How uncomfortable, muses the Brazilian, as he returns to the couch.

    Marc silently smiles when he's tossed the shirt then swiftly tugs it on, plopping down right beside the child, whose currently engrossed on the cartoons flickering across the television screen. He slants an arm around him behind the couch in a protective almost fatherly gesture as he settles in to join him.

    "I didn't know you liked Spongebob," Rafinha muses as he plops on the opposing side of Davi, who gazes up at him with a toothy grin.

    Davi only giggles softly then shifts to remove his backpack to retrieve a tiny, Spongebob plush toy. He shoves it towards Rafinha who only chuckles in response, toying with the object curiously. "Papai and I watch it before bed together!" Marc makes an amazed sound at that which makes Davi glances towards him with a nod of his head: "But papai is always so sleepy.."

    Nimble, pale fingers brush the strands of blond from the child's eyes before offering a gentle pat on the head. "Your papai works so hard to score all those goals for you and it makes him tired."

    Davi blinks once, twice, thrice at that before bursting into a fit of giggles. Much like his father. Like father like son, they say. Rafinha finds himself laughing, too, even if he doesn't understand what the situation is. The little boy's tiny pointer finger is directed to Marc, his body shuddering with the force of his laughter.

    "Papai said you didn't speak any Spanish and—and that you were related to.. To Arnold.. Shh-war..Z.." Silence lapses between the two as they allow him to sound the words out but to no avail. "The Termi-Terminator..?"

    Another fit of giggles spews from Rafinha who holds his stomach from laughing so hard, hunching forward slightly. Davi looks far too amused by it all and only grins broadly as he stares up at Marc, who is glaring at Rafinha. "He said that?" All the little boy does is nod vigorously in response with a serious look gracing his countenance.

    "It's true, Mats here is the Terminator and he has a built-in translator to speak Spanish." Davi looks bewildered by the information as he stares wide-eyed up at Rafinha who finally calms his laughter. "See this hair?" Rafinha leans across the back of the child in favor of mussing up the German's blond locks, "It's like magic, you like magic, right?" Davi nods once more, "It connects to space and gets signals and that's how he speaks Spanish."

    "Woooooow," is the amused sound that echoes from the child as he glances back at Marc who is smiling slightly despite himself. "Really? Can I touch it?" He lifts a hand hesitantly but the German is already leaning forward to allow the action. "It feels sort of like mine.."

    "He's a very human-like model."

    Marc reaches across the back of the couch in favor of swatting Rafinha on the back of head, his head shaking in a scolding manner. "Stupid here is right."

    Davi's hands shoot to his mouth at that and he inhales a sharp gasp. "Papai says that's a bad word!"

    "See what you did? And you thought I was the bad influence?" Rafinha snickers to himself as he playfully wraps his arms around the small child, embracing him. "Let Uncle Rafa take you away from this mean, mean man."

    "You have to say sorry," Davi insists with a firm purse of his lips as he regards the German whose face is flushed the crimson color of the little boy's backpack.

    He splutters for a response and glances at Rafinha for assistance but the brunet refuses to glance at him—the bastard. "I am so sorry, Davi. I promise I won't ever say it again." Marc offers the little boy his pinkie and Davi offers up his own, the two linking around each other in a truce. "What can I do to make it up to you, little guy?"

    Davi crosses his arms over his chest and looks upwards as if honestly contemplating it. "Papai and I were supposed to go out to eat but he had to leave.. I'm hungry.."

    Marc almost immediately finds himself on his feet, shifting towards where the kitchen area was located. "How about peanut butter and jelly? Or a grilled cheese sandwich?"

    Rafinha releases the child in favor of rising to his feet as well, playfully shoving the German. "Why would he want that when we have brownies in the fridge? We have some cake, too, from the party your dad had a few days ago." The German elbows the Brazilian in the ribs at that, the brunet looking perplexed by the action. "So how about cake and brownies and a banana, so papai doesn't get too mad."

    Davi cheers boisterously as he hops down from the couch, reaching outwards toward the elder's hand. Rafinha graciously accepts it then gently tugs on the tiny hand in favor of towing him towards the kitchen but the little boy doesn't budge, however, his gaze focused on the German that towers above them both. He hesitantly extends a hand to his fellow blond, the elder gratefully taking it, offering it a warm squeeze.

    Seemingly satisfied by the gesture, the tiny blond shakes at the older Brazilian's hand until he tears his gaze away from Marc in favor of smiling down at Davi, who continues to impatiently shake at his hand. Once more the brunet chances a glance back at the German; something was oddly attractive about him playing daddy, but he wasn't quite sure why.

    Nonetheless Rafinha transports them towards the kitchen, only halting to pick the child up to place him gently upon the counter-top. "Papai doesn't like it when I sit on the counter.. He says it's not clean." Tiny fingers are playing with his lower lip, a timid action, that only makes Rafinha smile fondly.

    "Papai isn't here, so it's a secret okay? Plus this is my flat so you can do whatever you want." A tanned finger playfully pokes the little boy on the nose before sauntering off towards the refrigerator to retrieve all the goodies and treats.

    Davi gazes around the whole of the kitchen until his gaze eventually falls on Marc who leans against the counter casually, patiently awaiting the younger to fish out the food. "I'm taller than you up here."

    The blond smiles affectionately at that, hunching further down on the counter until the child seems to tower completely above him. "I think you're still taller than Uncle Rafa up there, too."

    Davi giggles at that, covering his mouth with his hands. "Papai said that you and Uncle Rafa were like him and mamãe," it's said as a whisper so that Rafinha is unable to hear, the male far too occupied with attempting to balance everything in his arms to even pay the proper amount of attention anyway.

    Pale cheeks flush considerably at that, the blond awkwardly clearing his throat, tugging at the loose collar of his shirt. "What did Ney—papai mean by that?"

    Tiny fingers tap upon his chin as if searching for an answer but he eventually shrugs his tiny little shoulders then proceeds to kick his legs back and forth in front of him. "I dunno, but he said it."

    "So does that make me the papai and Rafinha the mamãe?"

    Rafinha approaches the counter then and discards the brownies in a small pan upon the surface as well as pieces of cake wrapped protectively in aluminum foil. He stretches across the counter to reach for a few bananas as well, then gently offers them towards the child. Davi opens his mouth to speak then, which completely catches the brunet off guard as he curiously stares at him.

    "I think Uncle Rafa is mamãe."

    All Marc can do is attempt to cover his chuckles with coughs but it's to no avail as he reveals his teeth to full on laugh. Davi looks completely oblivious as to why he's laughing and instead reaches for a brownie that has a few nuts scattered over the top of it, taking his time to examine it for a moment. Eventually he nibbles at it then is reaching for another.

    Seconds tick by and Rafinha is coining an accusative glare at Marc, who only laughs harder in response, tears appearing at the corner of his eyes. "Do I even want to know what weird stuff you've been feeding to this innocent little soul?"

    Marc only offers him a finger in response as he catches his breath, the Brazilian plucking up a brownie of his own in the meantime. Finally he eases up on his laughter in favor of wiping at his eyes, the smug grin on his lips never leaving once. "I didn't say anything, I swear. It was all Davi! I guess Ney tells him about us and he told the little guy that we're like him and his mom."

    Davi seems far too interested in the treats littered across the counter, legs kicking back and forth joyously, to even enter the conversation. Rafinha takes a bite of his brownie then presses it against the German's lips insistently, "Why do I have to be the mom?"

    The blond only offers him a teasing look as he tilts his head slightly to better bite at the treat, moaning softly at the taste. They were heavenly, a result of a restless night between the Brazilian and the German; surprisingly, they had turned out perfect, even if they were made during the wee hours of the morning.

    "Probably because you do things like that."

    Apparently coherent thoughts weren't running through the Brazilian's mind in that moment as he snatches the remainder of the brownie back to toss if halfheartedly onto the counter. It gathers the child's attention but he doesn't question it as he instead stares onward curiously at the two, the tanned man crowding the blond against the counter.

    Blue eyes slide to glance at the child who seems far from disturbed by the sight then clears his throat. Rafinha seems to come to his senses then as he instead uses his thumb to collect the tiny pieces of brownie that cling to the corner of the latter's mouth, not hesitating as he slides the digit between his lips to taste the chocolate bits.

    Marc stands up fully then until he towers above the brunet who only smirks his amusement as he returns to the side of Davi who is still happily nibbling away at the assorted desserts. This time he plucks up a piece of crumbly cake from the aluminum foil, hands covered in the chocolate frosting. He doesn't seem to mind, however, as he consumes the cake and even offers some to Rafinha.

    "Sometimes papai does that with Uncle Leo."

    Rafinha hums his amusement at that and gladly accepts the piece of cake offered to him, careful to not dirty his hands with the frosting. "And he told us not to be weird," scoffs the brunet as he glances at Marc who looks utterly mortified by the thought.

    Nothing had ever been officially stated between the two strikers of the team, it was mostly speculation among the guys who were far too invested in whatever relationship the two had. Apparently it hadn't gone unnoticed to Davi either, though he was certain the child knew far more than the rest of them ever did.

    But whatever, Rafinha wasn't particularly interested in whatever peculiar endeavors Neymar and Messi got up to whenever they were in the privacy of their own homes. Though he can't fight the nagging thought of who tops out of the two—probably Messi, he thinks offhandedly, though he was certain the Brazilian spitfire could dominate if he so chose to.

    Marc offers the Brazilian a quizzical quirk of a brow, "Are you okay?"

    Davi glances between the two male's before allowing his gaze to settle upon Rafinha's countenance. "Uncle Rafa?"

    "Huh? Oh, uh—Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking about something. I'm alright, little man." He reassures the blond with a pat on the head then proceeding to thrust another piece of cake into his awaiting hands. "Slow down on all the chocolate though, me and the brooding German over here don't want you to get a tummy ache. Meu deus, I could only imagine the many ways your dad would react."

    Davi crinkles his nose at that and reluctantly places the piece of cake back down upon the foil, "I don't like time-out."

    "Neither do I," quips the German with an understanding nod of his head though he certainly had a double-meaning that didn't go unnoticed by a certain Brazilian.

    "It sucks." Davi agrees with a small frown as he places his hands together, the frosting making them stick together.

    "Hey, hey. Hold on a minute," Marc sighs softly as he collects the child and transports him towards the kitchen sink where an awaiting Rafinha turns on the tap. Marc shifts the child within his hold until chocolate covered hands are beneath the steady stream of water, Rafinha assisting by offering the child some soap.

    After the chocolate is washed away down the drain, the German gently places the child on his feet. "Thank you, Uncle Mats." He hums with a soft yawn as he runs away towards the living room area, the volume audibly rising to the tune of the Spongebob theme song.

    Once the child is out of earshot and vision, the Brazilian plops upon the counter and beckons the German towards him. Blue eyes are glancing towards the tiny corridor leading towards the living room but hesitantly strolls the small distance nonetheless until he's pressed between the younger's legs. Hands are resting upon his upper thighs, neither squeezing nor rubbing the area.

    There's a gleam within chestnut hues that the blond can't quite place but he doesn't question it, it's not like he could, not with the lips that are pressing against his own. Marc utters a startled sound at the action as he attempts to shift backwards but to no avail, the younger has him captured within his grip, preventing the action.

    Eventually the cautious sounds melt into soft sighs as he hesitantly places his hands on Rafinha's knees, working them back up to his thighs once more. This time he does offer a warm squeeze but doesn't press the action further at the fear of the child returning to the kitchen for possibly another treat. He gently pecks at plump lips until they part ever so slightly to allow him access to his cavern, tongue assaulting every inch available.

    But like the good boy he is, the German withdraws from the kiss, much to Rafinha's chagrin. The brunet chases his lips but Marc refuses to allow the connection of their lips once more, instead shifting his countenance so the brunet kisses his cheek versus his mouth. A soft sigh echoes from the male as he finally leans back against the counter to allow the blond much-needed space, offering a broad grin.

    "What?"

    "Since when are you good with kids?"

    Marc stares at him pointedly for a moment, "I never said I wasn't. What makes you think I wouldn't be?"

    "Big, brooding Germans tend to scare off cute little kids like Davinho."

    Scoff. "Am I really that big—" Rafinha doesn't let him continue before cheekily saying 'yes.' Marc smacks his thigh at that but the brunet only snickers. "I was going to say am I really that big and brooding?"

    "Sometimes, yeah. Luckily I find it kind of sexy, so you have no worries here."

    Thin lips quirk downwards into a small frown but Rafinha is quick to peck those lips until he's smiling once more. "I guess I am lucky, huh?"

    "I guess it depends on how you define 'lucky,' Marquinho." There's an amused gleam in those chestnut hues as he stares into those cerulean pools that are clearer than any oceans he has ever laid eyes on.

    "Blessed then?"

    Rafinha mulls that over within his mind thoughtfully but then only smiles in response. "I guess we both are, yeah?"

    "I still don't understand how I managed to date someone like you," admits the German with a timid blush painting his cheeks.

    "You can thank your best friend Jäger for that one night after that team party a few month's back." Hums the Brazilian, eyes glazing over as if recalling exactly what had occurred that blissful night. "That was the night I got blessed in more ways than one."

    "That's so wrong," But the German is chuckling nonetheless and Rafinha joins him as per usual.

    Another second passes by and the German cants his head in the direction of the small corridor that leads towards the direction of the living room. It's oddly silent in the next room over but that would quickly be remedied in the few seconds it would take to check on the child. The blond brushes the pad of his thumb along the latter's plump lower lip fondly, eyes staring down at inviting sight, but resists the urge to kiss him.

    Instead he offers his thigh a firm pat before he turns on his heel to check on little Davi. He hears hushed footfalls echoing behind him, aware of the presence of the latter trailing behind him. He presses a pale finger to his lips and glances back at Rafinha, effectively hushing him, as he approaches the couch to find the little boy fast asleep.

    There he is curled into a small ball, hands clutching loosely onto his Spongebob plush toy, his blond little head resting upon one of the lush pillows. Before the German can shift to seek out a blanket, he spots the sight of Rafinha with an armful of them and blindly strolling towards the couch. Marc plucks up a thick one and gently tucks it around the child, Davi stirring slightly, calling out for 'papai.'

    His hand gently slicks back his blond locks when he finally rights the blanket on his tiny body, pressing a ginger kiss to the side of his temple. The child smiles at that, probably assuming it was none other than his father, then returns to softly snoring.

    Rafinha had disappeared once more to flicker off the lights until only the soft glow from the television is the only source of light within the room. He grabs Marc by the arm and transports them towards the couch they had previously debauched. The blond lays down and the brunet is fast to accompany him, not concerning himself over how it would possibly appear if the child abruptly awoke to find him sprawled across Marc's chest.

    The two finally situate comfortably after a moment of shifting until Marc is on his side with Rafinha positioned in front of him. One pale arm is slung protectively around his waist while the other is tucked beneath his head; Rafinha only twines fingers with the appendage that surrounds him, his other arm awkwardly beneath him.

    Somehow the two managed to fall asleep to the tune of the Little Einstein's opening theme song, completely wrapped up in each other in every way. Soft snores fill the entirety of the living room in lieu of the television program, but neither of the three forms appear disturbed by the sounds. Program after program flicker across the television screen until finally the familiar ring of the doorbell awakens one of the three drowsy forms.

    Marc ultimately stirs behind Rafinha, the brunet having him pressed sandwiched into the back of the couch. He somehow manages to maneuver himself from behind the male, having to tip toe in order to avoid awakening the slumbering duo. When he reaches the door he has to run fingers through his hair and adjust his shorts a bit, only opening it when he appears presentable.

    Neymar looks as exhausted as he feels but he still manages to have a small grin despite it all. "Where's Davi? Is he okay?"

    "He's just sleeping right now," Marc rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, wiping at the sleep that's gathered there. "So is Rafa, if you're wondering."

    Conflicting emotions flicker across the Brazilian's countenance at that, nipping silently at his nails for a moment, before finally locking gazes with cerulean eyes. "Is it cool if I crash here tonight? My house is twenty-minutes away and I don't wanna wake up Davi, not when he's sleeping."

    A soft yawn echoes from the German but he nods nonetheless as he steps aside to allow the hazel-eyed man entry. "You know where the guest room is.. I don't mind at all."

    Neymar's face lights up considerably at that and he finds himself unconsciously reaching out to tug the German into a warm embrace, hands patting enthusiastically at his back. "Thanks, man. I didn't feel like driving back anyway, I'm ready to pass out even now."

    Marc shuts the door as silently as he can and joins the Brazilian as he returns to the living room to gently gather Davi up into his lean but muscular arms. Once more he offers a grateful smile to Marc, bumping shoulders with him purposefully as he escorts the two in the direction of the guest bedroom. He can't help but grin fondly at the excited sound of Davi's voice as he expresses his joy at the sight of his father.

    Marc finds himself distracted by the sound of rustling blankets, glancing back towards the couch to find Rafinha blindly patting at the spot behind him. Dark hues gaze at him through the darkness, looking somewhat confused and disoriented, motioning his hands back towards him.

    "Come back to bed, Marquinho.. I'm tired and I can't sleep without you."

    Just like the rest of the night, he can't resist the smile that forms upon his lips as he's beckoned back to the potential love of his life. Somehow the two work cooperatively in making space for Marc to return to his previous spot, squeezing between the couch cushion and Rafinha's warm, receptive body.

    "I love you," whispers the German into the younger's ear, pressing a kiss to the lobe.

    "I know, I know.. I love you, too.. Now let me sleep, please."

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write this pretty quick as I have some last minute things to do today D:
> 
> I promise I'll reply to the comments in my inbox ASAP, probably later on tonight. 
> 
> As always: thank you guys for reading :3 <3 xx


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